Goodbye
by saltflakesnow
Summary: But it didn't matter. All that mattered that he was going to live and save the world and no one would even notice. Oneshot Songfic. Slight Jo/Dean.


**A/N:** Hey, again, guys! This is a songfic to the song, _A Modern Myth_ by 30 Seconds to Mars. It's probably the longest thing I ever wrote in terms of fiction, but sadly I don't know if I even like it. I hope you guys like it anyway. Now, please excuse me while I will try to write some sort of LotF fanfic. xD;

As a disclaimer, I do not own Supernatural or 30 Seconds to Mars' song, _A Modern Myth_.

* * *

_Did we create a modern myth?_

It all started out with the rifle and the punch to the face. As overly clichéd as it may seem, Jo first met Dean Winchester by slamming her left hook to his pretty face.

She could still remember him cradling his nose as she punched that cockiness out of it, and damn, did it feel good.

They both didn't realize it, but this was a shaky start for a long lasting relationship for them—including Sam, Ellen, and Ash.

Because these he and his brother needed a home and the Harvelles were only glad enough to hand it to them.

And Jo felt an odd comfort at that, seeing herself slowly branch into another family not formed mainly by blood, but actual trust.

And she didn't mind it one bit.

* * *

_Did we imagine half of it?_

Call it attraction, infatuation, or just plain half-baked romantic notions, but as far as Jo was concerned, she _knew_ that there was something there between her and Dean.

Not to mention that the sexual tension was there, placing an awkward elephant between her and Dean when she pushed herself into his life.

That aside, there was a messed up connection between the two. The admiration for their fathers and eagerly following their footsteps, their immeasurable stubbornness, and even down to their loyalty to their family and to carry out the tradition of hunting.

But even then, Jo knew that she shouldn't get in over her head. Dean Winchester was not one who would settle down for an apple pie life, no. He lived and breathed on the open road with Sam and the Impala gleaming proudly under the basking sun, finding a new motel to stay in and a new creature to hunt.

And so she decided to let him go.

Letting him go wasn't as hard as she thought it would be. After all, she knew that the eldest Winchester would never call her, and not to mention that she started to feel that their relationship was merely one-sided to say the least.

If Dean really thought of her as a little schoolgirl or not, it didn't matter now. All that mattered was that she was alive and there were many more things to hunt and people to save.

She won't let her lingering, wondering thoughts about Dean wander into her head, not anymore.

* * *

_What happened then, a thought for now._

She didn't expect to run into him in Colorado two years later. As far as she knew, he was down in Hell—until now, of course.

Not that she expected him to tell her the moment he literally rose from his grave, but Jo felt disappointed in him—that she had to learn from _Rufus_, of all people, that he was alive and well. You'd think that he'd have the _decency_ to at least notify them from Ellen, but instead he shuts them off.

So she just uttered him an awkward "Hi" to him, not sure whether to tell him that she's glad that he's back, or to ram the butt of her rifle at his face for not telling them sooner.

One thing's for sure, though: she's not the same girl she was two years ago. She refused to go head over heels with the infamous Dean Winchester all over again. She took that route before and she wasn't sure if she wanted to take it once more—he was too broken, too distant, and too _different_ now, even if he still donned that same devil-may-care look two years ago.

She refused go down the path of unrequited love again like some love-struck fool.

But why was her heart pounding, her stomach twisting, and her throat drying when she set her eyes upon him again?

* * *

_To buy the truth and sell a lie  
__The last mistake before you die_

Jo was quite surprised that Dean actually sent the "Last Night on Earth" speech to her.

She honestly didn't know whether to be amused or flattered or downright disappointed. He really had the knack of doing things at the wrong place and the wrong time, didn't he? Did he honestly thought that she'd be willing to be a contemporary one night stand just because it was possibly their last night on Earth?

He better think again.

But, she felt a tug on her gut, her nerves flaring up as she caught his eyes, hooded with the intense desire to touch, to taste, to _feel_. He was coming closer and closer, she noticed, and she could smell the musky aroma of gunpowder and wood. _God_, she just wanted him right then and there.

But she won't.

She wouldn't stoop that low. If it were her last night on Earth, then so be it. She wouldn't shred the very last of her dignity and fuck every man she saw for fun—even if it was a man who she had a crush on, a fading one, but a crush nonetheless. How demeaning would that be, just having sex because it might possibly be doomsday tomorrow.

So she decided to play along, her eyes darkening into a deep shade of brown before she stepped closer, her hand resting casually on Dean's cheek. She pulled him in and their breaths mingled together, dancing upon each other's lips. Like a magnet, their lips slowly started to attract. And like a magnet, Jo suddenly pushed away from him.

"No," She stated, amusement jumping in her eyes. "Sweetheart, if this is our last night on Earth, then I am going to spend it with a little thing I call self-respect." She finished with a soft laugh before moving away from his space and back to her mom and the angel.

And as she laid on her bed that night, she vaguely wondered if Dean would have offered if they were in another place and another time when the apocalypse wasn't shaking their lives.

She doubted it.

* * *

_So don't forget to breathe tonight  
__Tonight's the last, so say goodbye_

It was out of pure instinct. It wasn't her job to protect Dean—his stubborn ass would deny any offer of protection nonetheless—but she did it anyway.

And look what her impulsiveness got her into: a giant rip on her stomach and the inability to walk. But Jo ignored the pain and the sudden urge to swear that Dean Winchester was a walking curse, and only wondered, _Did I do it? Is he still alive?_

Because she realized, as her insides were barely wrapped together by a measly bandage, the whole apocalypse wasn't about her; it was about them. She was just another willing soldier in the little Team Free Will, and she would do anything to see them succeed.

_What do you know? Guess yesterday was my last night on Earth after all._ Jo thought in the tiny store, trying to let out a mirthless chuckle, but letting out a mixture of a groan and a gurgle instead. She was barely breathing and it hurts to laugh.

She paused, feeling Sam's huge hands enveloping her own and giving her a look of absolute sorrow. She couldn't help but lifting her own lips to a reassuring smile, trying to show him that this wasn't his fault—all of it.

Jo then saw Dean in her sights, a broken and bruised look passing over his eyes. She stilled once more, hoping to God that he would put up a chick-flick moment or she would _so_ shoot his ass back to Kansas.

But he didn't, they just stayed still for a moment, staring at each other as if they were two completely opposite worlds in opposite planes.

They both hesitated, the male unsure of what to say and her struggling to even breathe.

For this was their final meeting and their last goodbye.

* * *

_Goodbye, goodbye _

"So, I'll see you on the other side—probably sooner than later." Dean murmured to her, covering the detonator in her hands slowly, regret in his eyes.

She caught that flicker of emotion and bit back a sigh, forcing away her dying, half-baked romantic notions and pushed her trusty shotgun in his hands.

"Make it later," Jo insisted, pulling up an encouraging smile.

And she meant it.

She would be damned if she knew that he died a week after her death. She would shoot his ass back to Earth if she had to.

_Goodbye, goodbye_

Dean pulled up a small smile before it faded into a frown. His hand reached out, moving to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. It rested there before, as if it was slow motion, pulled her towards him.

She felt his chapped lips touch her forehead, and shivers started to plunge down her spine. Jo felt her lips quiver and she tried hard not to break down and cry right there.

_Goodbye, goodbye_

He pulled away from her for a brief moment, his eyes hooded with so much emotion. She could see his sorrow, his regret, and his hesitance to let her go.

They didn't even had a chance to actually find a right place and a right time for each other.

But he had to let her go anyway, and from his eyes she knew that in another place—when the apocalypse wasn't happening—he would have taken more time to look at her not as a love-struck schoolgirl, but as an actual woman.

He was pulling closer, Jo noticed. She bit her lower lip, her nerves tingling from anticipation.

_Goodbye, goodbye_

And he kissed her.

She was surprised at the bombardment of emotions that he put into the kiss, and she could only try to reciprocate her emotions back at him. To try and show him that he deserved to be happy after all the turmoil he'd been through, knowing that she wouldn't be a part of it.

But it didn't matter.

All that mattered that he was going to live and save the world and no one would even notice.

_Goodbye, goodbye_

Dean rested his forehead on her's, and Jo could only wonder what he was thinking and he would do, before finally pushing himself off of her.

He gave her one final look before he and Sam finally escaped out of the building.

She could only hope that they would work it all out in the end.

_Goodbye, goodbye_

Her mother came to sit next to Jo after pushing out all the salt that separated them from the hounds. She cradled her in her arms, and they both trembled and mulled with the passing silence.

Both of them were scared, and both of them knew that this was their last time together—as a mother and daughter, as a _family_.

_Goodbye, goodbye_

A shuddering breath escaped her mother's lips, and Jo felt a twinge of guilt in her heart. As selfish as it sounded, she did feel comforted that her mom was with her in her last moments—even if she didn't deserve this.

"I will always love you baby," She heard her mother break out in a hushed whisper.

Jo desperately wanted to say something in return, but her throat was choking up and no sound came out. If she had the power, she would let out a horrible sob right now.

It's not fair. The moment she really wanted to tell her mom that she really loves her, after all the rifts cracking between them, she had no power to do so.

It's not fair.

_Goodbye, goodbye_

Even after her mother's final words, Jo had to admit that she was still scared.

She had the right to be; she was about to blow herself up to save the two most important people in the entire planet.

But it didn't matter anymore. She had to do this. For them, the people, the world, _everyone_.

And in the end, wouldn't she meet all the people on the other side as well? Wouldn't she meet William Anthony Harvelle: her father and her hero, Ash: the closest thing to a brother that she ever had, and one day—sooner or later—Sam and Dean?

Her eyes slowly started to droop to a close, exhaustion and blackness taking over her vision. Death enveloped her entire body and existence.

But it didn't matter anymore.

She was ready.

_Goodbye_


End file.
